


Life Can't Get Much Better

by paranormalcy



Series: Here's To Us - Duology [2]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games), Uncharted 4 - Fandom
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Face-Sitting, Reader-Insert, Self-Insert, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 22:16:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8030905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranormalcy/pseuds/paranormalcy
Summary: You wake up the morning after with a splitting headache, Sam looks after you until you’re feeling better then you have a long overdue conversation.





	Life Can't Get Much Better

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry this has taken so long, I think I ended up rewriting this about 7 times before I got to this version.

The first thing you're aware of is the sharp pains in your head, the feeling that perhaps your skull is cracked. Your eyes open and the sunlight streaming in through the thin curtains is too much to bear, you groan and your hand comes up, pressing against your forehead as you squeeze your eyes shut again.

You jump when a voice comes from beside you, "your head still hurting, sweetheart?" The voice cuts through you and drives spikes into your brain, you wince from the pain, sucking in a harsh breath through your teeth, then you nod,  _ slowly _ , shushing him.

"Sorry," he breathes, the bed shifting as he moves to kiss your temple, his breath dancing across your skin, his hand moving to rest lightly on your stomach, "do you want me to grab you some painkillers?"

A sharp pain shoots through your head and you whimper, pressing your fingertips against your forehead in the hopes that it'll somehow stop it, "please."

His hand moves off your stomach and the weight on the bed beside you shifts then lifts as he gets up. You can hear his every movement as though the sound was amplified, him crossing the room into the bathroom, rummaging around looking for the painkillers, then filling a glass from the tap. You try to open your eyes again while you wait, blinking into the blinding light as it bores daggers into your corneas. You're not sure you'll ever be able to see without pain again. 

Sam's figure appears in the bathroom doorway and the light silhouettes him in a way that makes him look ethereal. A glowing man bringing you relief from your pain... you're pretty confident this is the universe's way of telling you he's your new guardian angel.

He smiles as he catches you staring, crossing back to sit beside you on the bed, "sit up, sweetheart," he breathes. 

You force yourself into a more upright position, taking the tablets from him, he holds the glass for you as you drink from it, realizing you can't quite see properly yet. "Thank you."

"Do you want me to try and cover the windows?" he asks, he moves the glass away and sets it on the bedside cabinet; the sound of the glass hitting the wood makes you flinch, pain blooming in your temples. 

You slowly shake your head in answer, "no, it's okay I just... I need to sleep it off." The bed shifts again as he lays back, throwing his legs up. 

He holds out an arm out to you, "come here, sweetheart." 

Your lips twitch up, butterflies in your stomach, "what did I do to deserve you?"

"Well," he breathes, as he moves his free arm behind his head, to use as a pillow, "considering how badly I fucked up last time... I should be the one asking  _ you  _ that question."

"That was on both of us," you tell him as you move closer, laying down as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, head resting on his chest. "I should've... you needed me and abandoned you."

"You..." his voice cracks from the emotion he's trying to hold back, trailing off, he sighs, then tells you, "you didn't do anything wrong, I would've bailed too," he starts tracing a pattern on your bare back - something with hearts and stars - as he thinks, "you don't regret it do you?"

"Regret what?" you ask, you don't quite process the question over the pain and your tiredness. Does he mean leaving him? Of course you regret it.

His lips twitch up in amusement, quietly prompting you, "the sex..."

Your lips form an 'o' and you smile back, "no," you breathe. "It was the best sex I've ever had."

He laughs, in that way that sets his eyes ablaze with shining light and makes the room seem much brighter, "oh man, that's gonna go straight to my ego, you know that right?"

"You almost killed me with an orgasm," you tell him as you blink up at his blinding smile and sparkling eyes, "I think it already went there."

He shakes as he laughs, making you shake with him, "Sam," you breathe, your lips twitching up as you press your fingers against his stomach, "stop laughing, I need to sleep."

"Sorry," he wheezes, trying to rein his laughter back in, "you're just so cute when you're hungover."

"I'm not hungover, I have a head injury," you mumble, frowning up at him, "in case you forgot we got the shit kicked out of us yesterday."

"Mm, I remember," he kisses your forehead, his fingers resuming tracing patterns down your spine, "sleep it off, sweetheart, let the painkillers do their job."

"When I wake up we need to talk," you breathe, and god - you're getting further away - or he is - you're still so tired. Are the words even coming out any more? "We need to figure out what the hell happened last night."

"I fucked up again is what happened," he breathes, "I always fuck up."

"No," you shake your head, trying to push yourself closer to him, you hand grabbing for his hip, "no, you don't. I love you. You're not a fuck up."

He smiles weakly and holds you tighter, "you need sleep, sweetheart. We'll talk when you wake up."

Your eyes close without you telling them to, being softly lulled by the sound of Sam's heartbeat, the gentle thudding below you, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, his fingers tracing patterns along your spine... You feel sleep firmly hook its claws into you, and you relent, letting yourself be dragged into its depths.

~

When you start coming round the first thing you realize is your headache has gone. The second is that it's too hot. As your eyes open you realize why; Sam's fallen asleep and has attached himself to you like an octopus, your lips twitch up as you try to turn over, get some cool air. His grip tightens, pressing himself against your back, he breaths in your ear, "where d'ya think you're going, sweetheart?"

Your heart stumbles for a second and you laugh breathlessly, "you're a furnace; I'm sweating, Sam."

"So we'll take a shower," he mumbles, lazily kissing your shoulder. You try to wiggle away from him again. "Stay still or I'll get hard."

Your heart is pounding, and okay - maybe morning sex sounds like a good way to wake up - "maybe I want you to," you breathe as you start wriggling in his grasp again, making sure to push your hips back. Something between a gasp and a moan slips from Sam's lips and you smirk, he grabs your hip and pulls you over onto your back, then you're being rolled over to face him. "Hey," you breathe, a smirk forming on your lips.

He doesn't speak, just smashes his lips into yours, you gasp in surprise, moaning into his mouth as your hands claw desperately at him. It seems like it takes all the restraint he has when he pulls himself back from you, "how about that shower?"

"I'd rather stay here with you," you breathe, and then his lips are on yours again, your fingers tangling in his hair, he gasps into your mouth as you wrap your hand around his hardening length, stroking him until he's fully erect. He grabs your thigh and tries to pull you closer, lifting your leg onto his hip. You pull it back away, breaking the kiss as you wriggle away from him, immediately pushing him onto his back with your palms on his chest. "You're in that dark place again, aren't you?" you breathe.

He looks up at you as you climb on top of him, straddling him and pressing yourself against his erection, rocking your hips to tease him with your wet pussy, "tell me about it," you say.

He grunts and thrusts his hips up, trying to slide himself into you, you smirk at his frustration, "tell me and I'll reward you."

He starts sputtering, "you- you're perfect, you're fucking perfect, Y/N. I'm garbage - I'm a fucking  _ criminal  _ \- why do you love me?"

"That's why you think you're a fuck up?" you breathe, "because you think you're not good enough for me? Because you've broken the law?"

He nods frantically, "please - fuck - can you-"

You climb off him and his hands come up to cover his face, " _ please _ , fuck-"

"Don't panic," you breathe, nudging his knees apart so you can climb in between, kneeling there looking up at him with lust filled eyes. "I'm going to blow you."

"What?" he breathes, completely dumbfounded, "you're-"

"You're good enough," you breathe, wrapping your hand around him, "you made mistakes... we all make mistakes."

"Y/N-" 

"I forgive you," you whisper, you lean forward and kiss him lightly, then you sit back again, ducking down to lick a stripe up the underside of his cock. His breath shakes and your lips twitch up, you take him into your mouth, sinking down until your lips meet your hand. He groans and you remove a finger, sinking down further, removing each finger one by one until you move your hand away. You watch through your eyelashes as his head falls back, his jaw falling slack, your hand cups his balls, massaging them while your head bobs. 

He moans loudly, his knees twitching apart, "oh god, feel's so good." You hum around him and the noise he makes in reaction makes your clit throb. 

"Don't do that unless you want me to-" you cut him off by moaning, he gasps and his hips shake, like he's trying to restrain himself. You pull back, suck a breath in through your nose, then duck back down, taking him in all the way, you push your tongue between the underside of his cock and your bottom lip, licking his balls. 

He makes a noise that you've never drawn out of him before and you make a mental note to try to get him to make it again. You pull back, sucking on the head for a few moments as you breathe through your nose, letting yourself recover. Then you swallow him back down, bobbing your head as you suck him. He groans, his hips twitching as he tries to control his reaction, his fingers tangling in your hair. You can feel it in the way his muscles are coiling that he isn't going to be able to control himself much longer. That soon he's going to start bucking. 

You're right. As you pull back to catch your breath his hips snap up and you gag around him, he groans and tugs your hair, tears spring into your eyes, and your fingers wrap around his hips, firmly pushing them back onto the bed. He grunts as he tries to buck up again, you slam them back down before they can lift very far. He groans and continues trying to fuck your mouth. You don't let him.

"Oh god, fuck - Y/N,  _ please _ ," he moans, "please."

You pull back, spit stringing between your mouth and his glistening cock, "you don't get to be in control all the time, Sam, sometimes I get to win," you tell him, then you press down on his hips and take him back into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head before sinking back down, your throat just opening up for him. "Fuck-  _ fuck _ !" He groans, "fuck, Y/N, you're just taking it, I can't-" his hips try to move again but you're holding too firmly. 

You moan around him and the noise he makes is delicious, his fingers stroke through your hair and you let a ragged breath out through your nose, "I'm close," he says with a strained voice, "if you want me to fuck you, you're gonna have to stop."

Your eyes meet his and your tongue slips past him to lick his balls again, he groans, "taking that as a no." You hum and his eyes squeeze shut, you pull back slightly and suck in a big breath. Your jaw is really starting to hurt now and you don't think you can keep it up much longer without taking a break. 

You duck down, taking him in all the way, your tongue comes out and you lick his balls while your fingers slide behind them, you probe around a little as you try to find the right place, then you start massaging with two fingers, he moans loudly and you feel his hips start to move - your arm slides across his hips and you try to push down but you can't hold him back one handed. He bucks up and you gag, tears spilling down your cheeks. "Fuck," he pulls his hips back and holds them steady, his muscles quivering from exertion, "I'm sorry. I- fuck, I'm-" he groans, "I'm gonna-" You feel his cock twitch in your throat and then he's crying out, your name slipping from his lips with a string of curses as he coats the back of your throat with thick sticky spurts. 

You squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to swallow around him, then you slowly pull off, sitting back on your heels and looking up at him. He looks completely spent; chest heaving, eyelids heavy, jaw slack, "come here," he reaches for you and you climb on top of him, letting him hold you tight against his chest as you both catch your breath. 

"That was amazing -  _ you're _ amazing," he breathes. Your lips twitch up and you look up at him, he hooks a finger under your chin and tilts your face up, kissing away the remnants of the tears. "I'm so sorry."

"I know," you breathe. "It's okay."

"I don't just mean for making you gag around my dick," he breathes, "I mean for everything that happened. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

"Sam it was a  _ mistake _ ," you breathe, "people make mistakes."

He nods, "let me make it up to you?" His hands move to your ass, pulling you forward, you get onto your knees and crawl as he leads you, until end up sitting on his chest, "you're gonna ride my face now, sweetheart," he breathes. You gasp as he tugs you forward and grab the headboard of the bed, his hands move to your hips, he's not gentle as he pulls you down. His tongue begins work immediately, finding your clit and teasing it for a few seconds before he moans and gives up playing games. His fingers dig into your skin as he starts sucking, his tongue lapping at you; almost like he's eating a ripe peach.

He's eating you like you're the best thing he's ever tasted, making obscene noises against your pussy. Your knuckles are starting to turn white from holding the headboard so tightly, your hips start moving against his tongue; you don't remember telling them to. 

Your eyes shut, your head falling back, you can't hold back the moans anymore, they spill out and join Sam's, filling the silence with an off-color duet. You wish you could see his face, you wish you could watch, but your back wants to arch and you have to comply. You pull a hand away from the headboard to run through your hair, tugging lightly, "fuck, Sam."

His tongue dips inside you and you whimper, pushing yourself down on it, "fuck," your hand moves to your breast, running over it roughly, his name slips from your lips again as he starts to fuck you with his tongue. Your eyes roll back in your head, one hand fisted in your hair, as you try to ride his tongue, you pull your other hand away from the headboard to desperately grasp at your breast. Sam's hands slide up to your waist to support you better and you moan, grabbing for his hand and holding it tightly. 

You can feel your orgasm starting to build and you're aware that you're not being as quiet as you probably should be; you're not sure you care about the noise. Your hand moves from your hair and grabs for his other hand, he lets you take it, riding his face while clutching his hands like your life depends on it. 

His tongue is inching you closer, and god - you're so close - you feel like you're going to explode. His tongue moves back to your clit and you almost scream from the intensity of the pleasure you feel. He sucks on it for a few seconds then starts flicking his tongue backwards and forwards across it, you gasp and stars explode in your vision, everything turning white. 

"Sam-" you squeeze his hands, "I'm gonna-" he hums and you moan his name, rocking your hips against his tongue as start to come apart. You can feel heat between your legs and sparks are going up your arched spine, "Sam, I-" he starts sucking and licking you again and your orgasm rockets through you, you try to keep your volume down as you ride it out. Sam's tongue dips back inside you and your body jerks, hips rolling as a wave goes over you, your head falls forward and your shoulders slump, hunching over yourself.

He places a few quick kisses to your clit before you can push yourself up, using his hands for leverage, you collapse onto the bed next to him desperately trying to catch your breath, "I always forget how good you are at that." 

He chuckles and nudges you onto your side, pulling you back against his chest as he holds you tightly, an arm around your waist, the other acting as your new pillow. "I promise you," he breathes, "I  _ promise  _ \- I will never hurt you again."

You glance at him over your shoulder and he nods, from his expression he's serious, "I love you, I'll always love you. That thing with Chloe... I was pissed off and I knew it would hurt you. It should never have happened and I regret it every day. I was an asshole."

"Yeah, you're damn right," you say quietly, your heart sinking as you remember the moment he sat you down and told you what had happened, what he'd done. How much anger and hatred you'd felt, how much pain and sorrow... tears prickle at the corners of your eyes and threaten to spill over. You can still hear his voice echoing in your head, 'I kissed Chloe.' You still remember your response, 'get out,' it was cold, devoid of feeling, he said your name and then the anger burst out of your chest like a nuclear bomb, 'I SAID GET! OUT!'

"Honestly, sweetheart, I regretted it the second my lips touched hers," he admits, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. Your heart thuds, recognising that as a sign of nerves and the tone of his voice as being an honest one. He's scared you won't believe him.

"Okay," you breathe, blinking away the tears with as much determination as you can muster, pushing those memories back down - they were in the past, this is the present, this is the future, "I believe you."

He kisses your neck, trailing up to the corner of your jaw, following it along until you have to turn your head, then he captures your lips in a kiss. "I'm am so sorry."

"I know, baby," you breathe, your heart hammering, the sound echoing in your ears. Your hand grabs for his wrist and you hold it, feeling his pulse in your fingertips. "I know."

His lips twitch up, watching your face for a few seconds, searching your eyes for something, "you brought back the cute nicknames?"

Your eyes widen when you realize you'd called him 'baby,' "It was a slip-"

"You won't regret it," he cuts you off, pressing his lips to yours again, you whine as the rest of the sentence dies on your tongue, and melt into his arms, "I promise, I won't screw this up again."

Your hand slips down from his wrist and your fingers tangle with his, your lips twitching into a smile, "I know. This time you know what you've got to lose."

"The best tasting girl in the world," he breathes, nuzzling into your neck as you roll your eyes, he gasps then plants an open mouthed kiss on your skin, blowing a raspberry against your neck. You start laughing and he smiles against you, then pulls back to ask, "your throat okay, sweetheart?"

You nod, a huge grin still plastered across your face, "yeah, just need to get used to how big you are again."

He mirrors your grin, his hand squeezing yours, "we have plenty of time to work on that."

"Yeah," an idea pops into your head that's too good to go to waste, and you feel yourself starting to formulate a plan. "What time do our flights leave?"

"Four," he breathes. "What're you thinking?" From the kisses he starts planting on your neck he's thinking of something different. 

"I'm thinking we don't go home to different states," you tell him, keeping it simple, nondescript. A  _ tease  _ of your plan. 

He lifts his head to look at your face, "I like that train of thought," he says, "keep talking."

You laugh, your heart is beating so hard you're almost scared it's about to jump out of your chest, "how about we just stay together?"

"You mean..." he trails off, biting his lip as he watches you, waiting for you to say it first.

"I move in with you," you say, the words making butterflies flutter in your stomach, god you want to move back in with him. Spend the rest of your life with him. You always have. It was how it was supposed to happen, how it was supposed to end. You can't imagine your life any other way. Curling up on the sofa together drinking hot cocoa in winter, sharing a bed with him stealing all the covers every night, making dinner together and using Sam to get stuff that's too high for you to reach... Growing old and senile, still hopelessly in love.  _ That's  _ how it was always meant to end. Your heart thuds in your chest, god, it might actually happen. You might actually have another shot at a future together.

"I was gonna say I'll move in with you," he breathes, pulling you out of your daydream and back into a crappy bed in a cheap motel room with ugly carpet, "if you'd prefer to stay where you're living now."

"I  _ know  _ you," you say, "you've got your office set up  _ exactly  _ how you want it - it's messy as fuck, no one else would be able to find anything, but to you it's a perfectly organized system... don't wanna pack it up now, do we?"

He grins and kisses your cheek, "thank you. I don't deserve you," he turns your head to kiss your lips, "I love you."

"You do deserve me," you breathe, reaching around to brush your fingers across his cheek, "and I love you too, Sam."

"What happened to-"

"I love you too, baby," you roll your eyes and he grins, nuzzling into your neck as he hugs you tightly. 


End file.
